All That Fell Down

10

It all happened so fast.

3 bullets torn straight through the heart.

Nico turned around in horror.

Everything stopped.

Nothing made sense.

How did they come to this?

Time rewound.

Zorya was covering beside him. They were a pair, side to side, like they always were. But this was an unprecedented situation. Bullets cutting the air every second, all around them, unrelenting. Each second, Regat grew weaker, and Ventura seemed to grow stronger.

Corner of the eye, shadows emerged. More soldiers. This was a losing game. Everything said retreat to Zorya. A quick glance at Commander Hera confirmed that she wanted to too. But retreating for Regat was unprecedented too. Did they really want to walk back as failures to their royals? Did they have a choice? In this situation, they did not have time or space to retreat either. She looked at Nico. Then back at their fate.

A split second thought.

An array of pouring fires.

Her legs moved on their own. A cry for retreat. A searing pain through the chest. And within seconds, there was no sound. Serenity ensued. The world went quiet. Darkness hugged Zorya. She wasn't scared; she welcomed it. This felt better. It was comforting.

Commander Hera dragged Nico away from Zorya's lifeless body on the field as he screamed his lungs out for her.

They retreated. As per Zorya's wish.

---

Screams. Desperate screams. Life-sucking screams of a broken boy reached the rooms of the princess.

She couldn't get up. There was something so heavy on her chest. She couldn't get up.

She couldn't get up.

Sweat dripped.

Guns fired.

Hands grabbing her satin sheets.

She has felt this before but never this bad.

And somehow, she knew. She wasn't getting out of this.

As her heart slowed, her life flashed: Lifted to the sun upon her birth; hailed as the princess; meeting people from a thousand walks of life; walking the streets; knowing her diagnosis; staying in her room forever; meeting a stranger; wolf mask; owl mask; bathtubs; vents; skin; lips; love; Zorya. It was mostly Zorya.

One second, Cassandra felt the worst pain one could ever experience. The next, she was walking down a dark corridor. There were no screams here. No gunfire. Absolute stillness. Absolute silence.

Her legs carried her as though she knew the place like the back of her hand. She could see nothing. But she knew she had a purpose. She felt it.

In a few seconds, when she felt herself turn right, a bright white light spilled from a crack in the door at the end of the hallway.

She followed the light and never looked back.

---

Zorya and Cassandra watched each other.

"Do you ever regret it?" Zorya asked.

"Regret what?"

"I don't know. Life. I regret the time I spent killing so many people. I regret joining a military whose kingdom only seeked power. I regret not meeting you earlier. I regret everything about my life."

Cassandra watched Zorya.

"I don't," Cassandra answered.

"Oh c'mon, you got dealt the shittiest cards. Having a heart condition? Trapped in your room? Dying of a heart attack? It's got to feel unfair sometimes," Zorya argued.

"And still, I met you," Cassandra said, "A life spent with you is not a life I regret Zorya.".

Zorya let down the tears she did not know she was carrying.

She reached out and tan hands clasped pale, freckled ones, as tight as possible.

The door opened and a slender man with black, slicked back hair and neat white uniform stepped in. Zorya and Cassandra looked at him, their hands still wrapped together.

"Ladies, your place is ready," he said, looking at their hands, smiling before he walked away into the darkness beyond.

Zorya and Cassandra returned their gazes to each other, both now with a salty water trail on their cheeks.

"Our time has come, Zorya," Cassandra said, smiling in love.

"Let's be happy, love," Zorya promised.

Hand in hand, they walked out towards the darkness, content with just the promise of each other.